Swords and Shadows
by Mpmagi
Summary: Set after the time of Naruto. Bad things happen in Konoha when it's savior is gone. A hunternin must return to his unit, and try to regain the only thing he's working for. Just read up to the 3rd chapter, you'll be hooked!
1. Takuzo

Takezo awoke, the blurry form above him tugged at the strings binding him. "Sephi?" he called.

"Sorry, the name's Mizoto. But from the look of this," Taku's vision cleared as Mizoto held up his foxmask. It marked him as an ANBU as much as the bounty papers she held up next.

"Mizoto Kjima. Rouge Nuke-nin. Class C." Mizoto's lip curled and she tossed the paper into his face. "Class C? I run a theft business from here to Honshu and they give me Class C?"

Taku tried to sit up, but the ropes around his back restrained everything but a wriggle. "An outrage, they said you were class B at least. Now I don't get paid as much for bringing you in."

He could see Mizoto wanted to laugh at that comment, but she double checked the ropes.

"I can't believe they'd send a such a pitful hunter-nin. Getting drunk on assignment? Losing your real weapon and having to get, this?" Mizoto pulled the wakizashi from his pack. "What're you going to kill with this?" She tapped her own katana, the blade easily twice and half his.

"Look, can you let me go or am I going to have to struggle." Taku rolled his black eyes. "You obviously don't recongize me."

"Oh, I do. You're the one who got all tied up and waited while your team got killed." An sneer tore across her face, "You might be good, but you're no Uzumaki."

A vein throbbed in Taku's forehead, "I'm better."

Taku's bound finger touched the tag he'd placed in his pocket earlier. The expolisve note fused and combusted, burning through the rope in seconds. Tension gone, Taku leapt to his feet and grabbed his short sword from Mizoto's stunned hands.

Her shock lasted only a moment. Her sword cleared the scabbard and slashed his feet. Taku grabbed her shoulders and flipped over the blade and her head.

Before he could land she whirled around, harvesting a few blonde hairs from his hair as he fell. He landed and rolled to his feet, short sword out and pointed at the nuke-nin.

She laughed as he felt his hair, now a few inches shorter. She aimed her own katana at his heart, mocking his pose. "Mines longer, foolish ANBU. Don't ever take on the best ranked close range fighter in Konoha."

Taku laughed, too. His left hand relaxed, the hair from Mizoto's neck down slipped down to join his on the ground. He tightened his grip on the strings of razor wire he'd wrapped around her neck. This time she could feel the sharp stings.

"I could say the same to you, Class C."


	2. Ashen

Zabuza's Momochi's grave was marked by a tuft of fresh grass and a large sword stuck at it's head. Despite the warm day, the hilt was cool to the touch. Ashen pulled and the zabato slid easily from it's resting place.

"The Demon without it's tool, as if it has a use for either now." Ashen examined the blade. Rust free and spotless, like the day Saili had forged it. The metal shone, as if it's grave had leeched the countless blood it had spilled.

Ashen felt it's corruption. It's owner had become weak. The boy's grave lay next to Zabuza's, marked by a cross and a foxmask. He felt a thrill at his predecessors ability. As unstable as the demon was his pupil was tougher. Ashen wished he could have trained the boy, he would have kept such a useful tool alive.

"Hey, don't touch that!" A kid crossing the Great Naruto Bridge shouted at him. A genin, freshly graduated, his forehead protector proclaimed him. A smiled appeared on Ashen's face, the scar across his cheek twisted the expression beyond comphrension. This child was from his adopted home, Kirigakure.

"They don't call your village hidden in bloody mist anymore, but try and stop me and I'll give them a reason to." The boy ran faster.Ashen relized the boy didn't recongize him as a threat. _I probably look like one of the commoners_. A twinge of guilt ran through him, the memory of discarding his Konoha headband flashed in his mind. But the genin's attack sqaushed it.

Ashen caught the first two shiruken on the blade, and twisted his head to let the third whistle past his ear. The Genin leapt. Ashen slashed at the airborne shinobi, almost laughing at the simple mistake.

The blade slipped through the clone without incident, disentigrating into mist.

_A water clone!_

Ashen through himself to the left, the large blade got in his way and he fell. The genin's katana slashed through the air where he had been standing.

Discarding the overlarge blade, Ashen drew his scimitar. Lithe and long like it's wielder, the weapon flowed with twisting designs along the blade. The boy, now wary, approached him caitiously.

"I didn't think anyone here remembered the _Mizu Bunshin_. You've used your ace, go home now so I don't have to clean my blade again."

The Genin hesitated.

The shiruken covered the space between them in less than a second, slashing the back of the boy's hand. He grabbed it, blood seeping from between his fingers. He looked up in time to see Ashen's booted foot smashing into his face.

Ash watched the Genin tumble down the incline. The mist near the river quickly swallowed his body from view.

He knelt to retrive the zabato. The sword felt heavy and unwieldly, it would take a powerful shinobi to use it effectively for any period of time. _Then again, was the Demon really human?_

Takuzo had lost track of a nuke-nin.

He flipped through his bingo book, the heavily noted and worn pages creaking in protest as he searched. A few of the names and sketches had X's through them, others notes on where one was or had been reported.

"Where are you, Ashender?" The missing-nin had disappeared three years ago, and a spite of attacks and thefts had been reported since. The Kirigakure ninja used a specific weapon, a scimitar that left curious slash patterns. It made him simple to keep tabs on. Until recently he had been holding up the various islands of the Land of Wave. The path ended at a town called Tide Village.

There he had attacked a genin, and stolen a curious item from a shrine.

_Could this be, is he finally going after the Misanagi?_ The thrill coursed in his veins, hidden behind his calm face.

The door slid open, a scroll falling onto his door mat. From the familiar crest stamped into the lettering, he knew it was a summons.

_Looks like I'll find out soon, anyway._


	3. Sasuhiro

Sasuhiro waited for the chuunin exam to be over. He'd never be promoted, he knew that the from the first time he used a hand seal. The chuunin opposite him looked prepared, his kunai sharp and ready to tear into Hiro's flesh.

The Shichidaime nodded to the tournament director, who gave the signal to begin. Abrame darted forward, hands a blur as they formed some jutsu. Hiro shut his eyes tight, willing the technique to work this time.

_Byakugan!_ He opened his lavender eyes. Abrame looked a bit more transparent than usual, his face contorted in contempt. The advanced perception the ability gave him was just enough to dodge his first attack.

The rush of the Fire Style attack flickered from the blue-white of chakra to the red-yellow of live flame. He rolled to his right, and again as a shiruken whizzed through where he had been standing.

He gathered his chakra in an instant. He pointed at Abrame and saw the stream of power congeal and release as it flowed through his finger. He felt a twinge of pride that only the Hokage and the instructor would see his jutsu fail.

"I thought the Hyuuga were the masters of close-range fighting." The chakra dissapated against his body, the white strands shattering. "You can't even use the Byakugan properly yet."

"I can!" Hiro shouted, rasing his palms and drawing his left foot back. The sixty-four palm technique would have to be fast, but it would end this as soon as Hiro could afford.

"Then what is this?" The kunai pressed into his back, were his spine meet his head. The point dug into his verterbrate, sending flashes of pain along his nerves.

"Kage-sama, this creature is a disgrace to Konohagakure. It would be better to kill this weakling now so he doesn't embarrass us any further than he already has."

The seventh stood, waving a hand dismissivly. "This isn't war anymore Abrame, he is still a useful shinobi." The Seventh's white robes were streaked with red and orange, like his was constantly on fire. His face was untouched by age, very few old shinobi had survived the war. It was strange seeing a face only a few years from his with such authority.

"Come, I have a task for him. Abrame, prepare the next candidate."

Sasuhiro followed the Seventh out of the arena, sheileding his eyes agaisnt the light of the outside world.

"Lucky for you, I knew your father." The Seventh guided him along the roads of Konoha, heading in the direction of the newly created _Hiue_, the Hokage's palace. The old one had been destroyed years earlier. "The Rokudaime's reign was short, but it probably saved all our lives. For that, I gave him a painless death and swore to look after his son," he turned his eyes, much whiter than Sasuhiro's own. "That debt is running out. Do not fail me on this one, or I will be unable to protect you from those like Abrame. Our village is becoming stronger, and routing out the weak."

The Seventh's frame remained still, but Sasuhiro felt every inch of the shinobi's displeasure. His life was set at birth, and he had failed so far.

"Don't fail me, Uzumaki."


End file.
